Darth Kerrek
by Dave Colton
Summary: The rise and perhaps fall of Darth Kerrek


Thin beads of sweat ran down the young man's forehead as his concentration increased. His hand was thrust forward towards the large, heavy block set before him. He stood a good few paces back, his eyes riveted to the same spot they had been for the last two standard hours.

"Persistence," Yoda kept chiding to the class. "Persistence and patience. The ways of the Jedi, these are."

The task before them seemed easy enough. Pick up the block before them, using only the force, and move it several meters before setting it down gently. Only a few of his other classmates had accomplished the task, and only after much mental exhaustion.

His breathing was steady, his mind focused on keeping it as such. He could feel the force flowing in, around, and through the block before him, but he could not lift it. It took intense concentration to be able to lift a block that size. Will power was one thing he had, but obviously he did not have enough.

Slowly but surely, each and every block was picked up and moved. All but his. The boy sat, his eyes boring holes in the plasteel cylinder before him, his awareness of the force attuned to nearly that of a Jedi Knight, but still the block would not budge. He refused to give up, refused to give in.

Through his heightened senses, he could feel each of the other pupils standing and leaving once their task had been completed. He could even hear their whispered conversations about what was to be eaten at the next meal, or even speculation when the next big task would be undertaken.

Riczo Koor, his master, stood in the doorway watching his Padawan struggle with the block. He heaved a heavy sigh as the perspiration on his pupil's forehead grew thicker and more noticeable. He had been sitting in the training room for nearly four hours. The other pupils had left nearly a standard hour ago, and it seemed as if his Padawan wasn't keeping up to par. He turned as another Jedi stood in the doorway watching, appraising the young boy sitting cross-legged in the back of the room.

"He's having trouble again, I see," the Twi'lek began, his lekku twitching almost subconsciously.

"Cuhan's progress has been slow in the mental attributes, yes, but the boy's prowess with a lightsaber is nearly unmatched," Riczo countered. The Twi'lek behind him shrugged a bit.

"The Torsin boy's tests are not all lightsaber duels, Riczo. You would do well to remember it."

"Cuhan," Riczo began, stepping out of the room and lowering his voice, "is different." He closed the door so the boy would not be disturbed further. "I can feel it. His affinity for connecting with the force is almost unheard of." A small smile crossed his face, like a proud father boasting about his son. "Not to mention he's top of his class when it comes to saber skills."

"That may be," the Twi'lek said mournfully, "but unless he improves with his mental abilities, he will never pass his final test to become a Jedi. The temple may need to remove him from classes to make room for new younglings." He sighed, his lekku twitching again. "I myself am beginning to doubt the boy."

A thunderous noise from inside the room startled both Jedi, forcing Riczo to peel his gaze away from his brother-in-arms. He opened the door and the panel shot upwards noiselessly, and what was beheld inside was not what either Jedi had expected.

Cuhan sat with his eyes riveted to the plasteel block before him. He was aware that his master was watching him, and although he could sense the disappointment, he could feel how proud he was because of the dueling tournament that had taken place earlier. Cuhan had bested all the other Padawans, and it was clear why. He was a conduit for the force when it came to martial skills. His hands moved faster than many of the Jedi could watch, his feet were a blur to even some of the Jedi Masters, and his skill with a lightsaber out did some of the Jedi Knights. One set of movements flowed effortlessly into another, switching from one fighting style to the next with the same skill and grace.

One moment, Cuhan would be on the defensive, blocking and evading slashes from another Padawan's training Bokken, and without even seeing an opening, he'd create one, moving faster than the eye could see, slashing at the other Padawan and making him retreat.

Several masters had already begun teaching him different styles not normally taught to Padawan. Double-bladed sabers, dual wielding his sabers. He had even begun working with a hook-handled saber. He was pleased he was getting so much attention when it came to lightsaber training, as he was the envy of almost every Padawan there, but almost each and every one surpassed him in the mental abilities. He could barely lift a glass of water and bring it to himself, which the others had mastered in less than an hour. It was a struggle to even get the glass to levitate.

But more importantly than either skill was his affinity for the force. He could sense the force in ways many could not. When he concentrated, he could literally see the strands of the force weaving together inside objects. He could hear its echoes and feel its tremors. It was for this reason he could fight so well. He could see the strands moving the blades and hear where the were going, feel where they were aimed. But perception and knowledge were one thing. The ability to manipulate was another.

Just because he could see the force didn't mean he could move an object or decide an outcome. It took amazing mental focus, and that was Cuhan's downfall.

He would concentrate on moving an object when another strand of the force would catch his eye, and his focus would shift form the object to where this new strand was, to what it interwove and where it bisected. It was a struggle for the curious boy from the mid-rim to keep a steady thought process going.

But while he was focusing on this enormous block before him, his attention was once again caught by a different string of the force. One connected to his master and another Jedi. He could sense, and almost hear their words as well as if they were speaking directly to him.

His attention pulled away from the block, he listened to his master and the Twi'lek talk outside the doors. Every word the Twi'lek spoke struck a chord in the young boy. They hurt him, belittled him, and angered him. He did his best to keep his emotions in check by focusing on the force itself, but when he heard the Twi'lek berate his mental abilities and doubt him personally, a small flicker of anger pushed through the barrier Cuhan had erected. With horror, excitement and confusion, he watched as the large block was thrown into the air and nearly collided with the ceiling. It hung for a moment, suspended over its original spot before being flung off to the left side of the room.

Cuhan was astonished. He watched with his force-sensitive vision, amazed at the strength of the force that flowed from him before it had struck the block and held it above the floor before hurling it sideways. He was startled nearly as much as the Jedi outside the door. His concentration lost, the strands of the force faded just as the door panel flew open, revealing two bewildered Jedi.


End file.
